Cookies
by chocolate chip wookiee
Summary: Chocolate chip cookies had always had a special meaning for the Carter family... Both chapters can be read as stand-alones.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:** Okay, there's not much to be said for this one. I thought of it while lying in bed, trying to fall asleep after a long evening spent studying. It just occured to me why Sam was making cookies when her dad came to tell her that her mother had died. This, combined with an unsettling discovery that there are disturbingly few stories that deal with Sam's childhood and youth and DO NOT include a certain USAF Colonel in one form or another. Don't get me wrong, I'm as hopeless a shipper as they come, it's just that it seems to me that the whole idea of Sam and Jack meeting as teenagers or something is a little weird._

_Also, the next chapter of the Five Times series should be up soon, I have the beginning and the end, now I just have to come up with something for the middle._

_Anyway, this was written late at night so please excuse the mistakes (I did read it after myself, but you tend to miss some things after five hours of reading school notes). Enjoy! Oh, and please, review :-)_

_**Disclaimer:** I own squat. Surprise! Surprise!_

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**Cookies  
**

„Sammie!"

Unfortunately, little Sammie Carter was too busy finishing her work to hear the voice calling for her from the kitchen. Reaching for green crayon, she shifted herself to a more comfortable position on the floor, where she was lying on her tummy, and started coloring vehemently, creasing her soft forehead in heavy concentration, with the tiny tip of her pink tongue stuck out of her mouth, closely following the crayon's movements.

"Sammie," said an amused voice.

She looked up to see Mommy standing in the doorway, smiling down at her.

"Whatcha' working on?" Mommy asked, kneeling down beside her.

Sammie sat up. "That's Daddy," she explained seriously, gesturing towards a drawing on the floor that showed a blue stick figure, drawn by the clumsy hand of a four-year-old, holding hands with a smaller figure whose head was covered with bright yellow hair. Both were surrounded by awkward shapes that seemed to represent carousels, a Ferris wheel and a rollercoaster.

"That's nice, honey," Mommy said softly, gently stroking Sammie's hair. "Why don't you give it to Daddy when he gets back?"

Sammie nodded fiercely. "I will!" her tender brow furrowed for a moment. "Mommy, will Daddy be back before I go to bed?"

Mommy sighed. "I don't know, sweetie. But if you're a good girl, you can stay up a little longer tonight," she added with a smile.

Sammie jumped up to hug Mommy tightly. "I'm always a good girl."

"Of course you are, baby," Mommy murmured quietly into Sammie's hair, pulling her closer. "Now, are you finished with your drawing?"

"Uh-huh," Sammie nodded as she pressed her cheek against Mommy's chest, snuggling closer.

"Okay, so how about we make some cookies for Daddy?" Mommy asked, cradling Sammie in her arms.

Sammie's eyes widened. "Really?" Could she really help Mommy make cookies like a big girl?

"Sure, you're a big girl, aren't you?" Mommy answered with a smile.

Sammie straightened herself and said proudly. "Yes, I am."

Mommy chuckled. "Good, now, clean up the crayons while I go check on Mark and then we can get to work, okay?"

"Okay!" Sammie yelled excitedly, already jumping up to collect the crayons and put them into a box as fast as possible.

*

Only minutes later, she was in the kitchen, settled comfortably on a chair, watching Mommy take out all the ingredients necessary to make the best cookies in the world. Flour, eggs, sugar, butter and most importantly, chocolate chips. No cookies were good without chocolate chips in them, Sammie, even though only four years old, knew that.

"Okay, Sammie, I need you to put this into the bowl," Mommy said, handing her a glassful of flour. Sammie stood up on the chair, accepted the glass solemnly and pouring the flour into the bowl. She then did the same with sugar, butter, eggs and some other stuff she didn't know.

"Here, we need to add some salt, too," adding a teaspoonful of the white powder.

Sammie regarded her with skepticism. "But Mommy, the cookies are supposed to be sweet…" she said, disappointed.

Mommy smiled. "I know, honey, but we need to put some salt into the dough, otherwise it's not good."

"But why?" Sammie just didn't understand why one would need to add salt into a sweet treat.

"Because sometimes, you have to add the exact opposite of something to bring it out," Mommy explained patiently.

Sammie's brow furrowed as she considered Mommy's words. "Like when I'm coloring, I have to put a dark color next to yellow so that I can see it better?"

Mommy smiled proudly. "Yes, just like that."

"Okay," Sammie nodded, satisfied. "What do we do now?"

"Now, I will mix the dough," Mommy said, taking the bowl from Sammie.

"And when do we add chocolate chips?" Sammie asked anxiously.

Again, Mommy smiled, only this time the smile was amused. "Later, honey, when the dough is mixed properly."

Sammie nodded and watched as Mommy used a mixer to mix the dough. Wow, Sammie thought, Mommy was so good at this, and so smart. She always knew what to do; like that you had to put some salt into sweet dough to make it taste better. And when to add chocolate chips, too. Her Mommy had to be the best in the whole world.

"Okay, now, you can add the chips," Mommy said, setting the mixer aside.

Sammie grabbed the bag and started to pour its contents into the bowl until the dough was all covered in chocolate chips.

"Whoa!" Mommy said, taking the bag from Sammie's little hands. "We don't want the cookies to be all chocolate."

Sammie nodded slowly, but couldn't quite bring herself to agree with Mommy. What was so bad about all chocolate cookies?

Meanwhile, Mommy mixed in the chips and put two large metal cookie sheets on the kitchen counter.

"Good, now, I'll show you how to put the dough on the sheet. Look," Mommy said as she took a teaspoon and used it to take a small ball of dough from the bowl and placed it carefully on one of the sheets, she then gave another spoon to Sammie. "Here, now you try."

Sammie took the spoon and plunged it into the dough. It was tougher than she'd thought it would be, but Sammie didn't give up. She determinedly turned it around and pulled out a large ball of the mixture.

Mommy chuckled. "Good, sweetie, you just need it to be smaller," she said and expertly set apart a portion of the ball, making it just the right size. She then handed the spoon back to Sammie. "Now put it on the sheet, just like I showed you."

Sammie took the spoon and carefully placed the piece of dough on her sheet, a barely visible line of deep concentration showing between her brows. Finally, the ball was safely on the metal.

"Well done, Sammie," Mommy said, gently patting Sammie's shoulder. Sammie smiled proudly.

They continued until all of the dough was on the sheets, then they put them into the oven.

"How long before they're baked?" Sammie asked impatiently.

"About ten minutes, honey," Mommy answered. "Just enough time for you to go wash your hands and face while I clean up the mess."

Sammie nodded, climbing down from the chair, and ran upstairs.

When she came back, the sweet smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies filled the kitchen. She breathed in deeply. She loved the smell. Now, she just had to wait for Daddy to come to give the cookies to him.

*

Late at night, Sammie was sleeping in her bed when she was suddenly awakened by the sound of the door of her room opening. She opened her eyes and looked at the door, seeing only a slice of light from the hallway seep into the room. Sammie wanted to shout for help, afraid that it might be a monster, but then she noticed someone stepping inside. It was a tall man. He made for Sammie's bed and as he got closer, she recognized him.

"Daddy?" she asked, her sleepy voice filled with joy.

"Hi, Sam," a familiar deep voice answered.

"Daddy!" she shouted, jumping out of the bed, and ran towards him.

"Shhh, Sam, Mark's sleeping," he reprimanded softly as he caught her and lifted her up to hold her close. Sammie threw her arms around Daddy's neck and hugged him tightly.

"I missed you!" she whispered, clutching at his shirt.

"I know, baby, I missed you too," Daddy answered, stroking her soft hair. He held her a moment longer and then carried her back to the bed. He gently laid her down and pulled the covers over her.

"I made cookies for you," Sammie whispered proudly.

"Really, all by yourself? Well, that's my big girl," Daddy said with a smile.

Sammie yawned. "Well, Mommy helped a little."

"Oh," Daddy chuckled. "We'll have some in the morning together, okay? Now, be a good girl and go back to sleep."

"Okay," she whispered, her eyes slipping closed. "Goodnight, Daddy, I love you."

He kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Sam, I love you too."

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	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** Written even later at night, please be nice.... Thanks, folks :-)_

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Sam took a bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips from the neighboring kitchen counter and carefully poured its contents into a bowl of cookie dough. She waited until the dough was fully buried under the chips before setting the bag aside. Mom wouldn't like this. Sam had always liked her cookies a little more chocolaty than the rest of her family. But since now she was the one to make the cookies, Sam decided she'd have it her way.

Ever since the first time she and her mom had made "Welcome Home Cookies" for dad years before, it had become sort of a tradition. Only as Sam grew older, she would be the one to make the cookies, without her mom's help. She already knew the recipe by heart at was proud to say that at the age of fourteen, she really did make mean chocolate chip cookies.

As she mixed the chips into the dough, Sam started humming. As she worked hard against the tough mixture, her humming grew louder until it became singing.

"Would you stop that?" Mark shouted from his room.

Sam jumped. Had she really been singing that loud? But, oh, what did she care, she was in a good mood. Dad had just gotten home from a long mission that morning and when he picked mom up from work and they came home, they would all have her marvelous chocolate chip cookies and milk. And mom would be happy again, not like she'd been for the past few weeks when she'd missed dad terribly. Everything was right again, so why wouldn't she hum. Or sing, anyway.

"I can sing whatever I want!" she yelled back at him.

The reply was immediate. "You call that singing?" There was a pause. "And I hate the guy!"

She decided to dismiss his remark about her singing; she knew music wasn't one of her fortes. But who on Earth could hate Rick Springfield?!? He was so cute! Those brown eyes could turn any girl into a puddle of goo. Besides, what did her twelve-year-old brother know about music, right?

She began louder. _"Jessie is a friend, Yeah, I know, he's been a good friend of mine…"_

There was a loud theatrical groan that caused a smug smile to spread across Sam's lips, followed by loud thumping down the stairs and a sound of the front door slamming shut.

_Good,_ Sam thought, _at least now I can have some peace_.

After some time, when the muscles of her hand and arm began to protest, Sam examined the dough with expert eye and having determined that the level of chocolate chip dispersion was sufficient, reached for a cookie sheet. She placed the small balls of dough on the metal with skill that could only be acquired by years and years of practice, putting a reasonable distance between them, so that they wouldn't stick together. That would ruin her reputation as a cookie expert. She brushed back a stray strand of her long blonde hair. She really should do something about the hair, it constantly got in the way. Sometimes, she thought that she would just have it cut really short. She also liked to say it out loud; it was fun to watch people's reactions. They would always be horrified, begging her not to do it, saying it would be a terrible shame to cut such beautiful hair. Golden, that's what they said. Sam snorted.

She filled one sheet, put it into the pre-heated oven and set the timer to ten minutes. Then, she reached for another one and began working again. As the sweet scent of fresh baked cookies filled her nose, Sam remembered the first time she'd made cookies with her mom. A lot has changed since then, they'd moved more times than she could count, her dad had been promoted two ranks; he was now a full bird Colonel. _Colonel Carter._ It really had a nice ring to it. But she would always welcome him with fresh baked chocolate chip cookies and they would sit down, all of them together, mom, dad, Mark and Sam, drink milk and eat cookies and catch up on stuff dad had missed while he was away. Oh, milk! She quickly checked the fridge.

Nothing. Well, never mind, she would just tell dad to go get some when he got back. Mom would probably insist on making dinner anyway.

The timer went off.

Sam jumped to the oven and took out the hot metal plate full of beautiful, light brown cookies. She couldn't help but smile proudly at them, she could picture mom's face when she sees them; she was always so proud of her little Sammie.

_Ugh, Sammie_. Mom was the only person who could call her that. From anyone else, it made her feel like a two-year-old.

Sam quickly shoved the other cookie sheet into the oven, setting the timer again. She marveled at the result o her work for another moment or two and then started cleaning up the mess. She rinsed the bowl so that the dough wouldn't dry in it, then did the same with the spoons she'd used. After that, she put all the ingredients back to their original places and washed the counter with a damp cloth.

Sam looked around, pleased with her work. Mom liked to have everything in order; she'd be glad that Sam cleaned everything up.

When the timer went off for again, she took the second sheet out of the oven and set it on the stove, having removed the first one. She went to one of the cupboards, took out a large porcelain plate and put it on the counter. Using a flat spatula, she removed the cookies from the sheet and put them on the plate, one by one.

Suddenly, she heard a car stop in the driveway.

Her heart started pounding faster. Sam felt a little silly, but she couldn't help it, she was just so excited. She knew exactly what would happen, her dad would walk in, mom right behind him, he would inhale theatrically and ask something like: 'What's the heavenly smell?' He always did that. And then he would come to the kitchen and act all surprised that she'd made cookies for him. It was transparent and predictable, but she loved it anyway. Oh, yeah, she loved this little tradition of theirs.

The front door opened. Sam tried to calm her heart and breathe normally.

"Sam?" she heard dad call.

It took all of her self-control not to shriek with happiness. "In here," she called instead, unable to keep herself from at least smiling.

Sam continued her work with the cookies, wanting it to look natural when they come in. She heard footsteps at the kitchen door.

Sam looked up, smiling at her dad, knowing that he was smiling too.

Only…

He wasn't.

His face was worn, he looked ten years older.

Sam blinked, confused. His eyes were red as if…

"Why are you crying?"

He didn't answer. Just looked down, avoiding her eyes.

Something was terribly wrong. Sam's throat clenched as a terrible thought ran through her mind.

No, that couldn't be it. There had to be another explanation.

Her eyes filled with tears when he looked at her again.

"Wh… Where's mom?"

*


End file.
